Part 11: Orchestrated Death
The street stretched ahead of them, lined with rows of dimly lit shops and vending machines humming softly in the evening air.
Takeshi's breathing was still uneven beside her, but at least he was still walking. For now.
Connie's mind was racing.
The discarded can that had a cheap and unknown energy drink brand on it, tossed near the streetlamp.
The strange symptoms that started before he even reached the café.
They were all connected.
Takeshi was still pale, but he wasn't as bad as the other timeline.
He slowed down.
Takeshi exhaled. "I think I walked through here before the café."
The street stretched ahead of them, dimly lit by flickering streetlamps. The quiet hum of vending machines filled the cool air, mixing with the distant chatter of late-night commuters.
They had reached a quieter part of the street, where a few small stores were closing for the night. A convenience store's fluorescent sign buzzed faintly in the air.
Connie glanced at him, then back at the vending machine ahead.
"Do you remember buying anything here?"
Takeshi frowned. "I was… thirsty, I think. Maybe I bought something."
His brows knitted. "But I don't really remember drinking anything..."
Her heart pounded.
That was important.
"Did you take anything from a vending machine? A store?"
A pause.
Then, slowly—
"…I think I used a vending machine."
If Takeshi had used a vending machine, whatever poisoned or drugged him had likely been in that drink.
Which meant…Someone had planted it.
She grabbed his sleeve. "Where?"
He blinked at her, still slightly dazed.
"The vending machine. Do you remember where it was?"
Takeshi turned his head slowly, scanning the street.
Then—his eyes locked onto something.
"…There."
He pointed.
Connie followed his gaze.
And there it was. A vending machine, tucked against the wall of an old bookstore.
Nothing unusual. Nothing that stood out.
But Connie's instincts were screaming.
That machine was where this death flag started.
Connie approached the vending machine carefully.
It looked normal. The panel glowed faintly, displaying a row of drinks. Coffee. Tea. Soda. Water.
Takeshi stood beside her, staring at it with a strange expression. Like something about it felt wrong, but he couldn't figure out why.
Connie studied the options.
If the drink he bought had been tampered with, then—She froze.
Her eyes locked onto a single drink. A canned energy drink sitting in the corner of the vending machine.
The design was off. It looked slightly different from the others—like it didn't fully belong.
And worst of all… She recognized it.
Because that was the same brand of energy drink that was listed on the discarded vial they had found earlier.
Her pulse roared.
This was it. This was what had poisoned him.
"Takeshi." Her voice was sharp. "Is this the drink you bought?"
His eyes flickered toward the energy drink.
A slow, hesitant nod.
"…I think so."
That was all she needed to hear.
Connie dug into her pocket and pulled out some coins.
Takeshi blinked. "You're buying it?"
"I need to see something." She fed the coins into the slot, then pressed the button.
A loud clunk echoed as the machine dispensed the can. Connie bent down, and grabbed it—
She tightened her grip on the tampered energy drink in her hand. The tiny puncture near the lid was barely visible under the streetlights, but she knew what it meant.
Someone had poisoned this. And Takeshi had been the one to drink it.
Her stomach churned.
This wasn't an accident.
But… why him?
Takeshi slowed his steps as they reached the vending machine. He stared at it, his brow furrowing.
"…This is it."
Connie studied his reaction carefully.
"Do you remember buying the drink?"
He hesitated.
"I… think so," he murmured. "But…"
His fingers twitched slightly.
"…It feels weird."
She frowned.
"Weird how?"
He rubbed his temple. "Like… I shouldn't have picked it."
A shiver ran down her spine.
Shouldn't have? That phrasing was off.
Not "I don't remember picking it."
Not "I don't know why I picked it."
But "I shouldn't have."
Like something had drawn him to it. Or like someone had made sure he was the one who grabbed it.
Connie exhaled, trying to piece it together.
If the drink was poisoned, there were only two possibilities:
1- It was meant for someone else, and Takeshi got unlucky.
2- It was meant specifically for him.
At first, the first option seemed more likely. Maybe the poison was random.
Maybe whoever planted it had no idea who would pick it up.
But…If that were true, then why did Takeshi buy it even though he felt like he "shouldn't have picked it?"
That was too specific.
Her fingers tightened around the can.
She had assumed this was a random death flag. But what if it wasn't?
What if this was a murder attempt? What if someone had planned for Takeshi to die today?
Takeshi took a slow breath. "…I think someone was near me when I bought it."
Connie's chest tightened.
She turned sharply. "Who?"
"I don't know." His voice was strained.
"It's… vague. Just a feeling."
An echo.
Just like before.
As if a residue of some memory was trying to emerge in his mind.
Her pulse pounded.
If someone was near him when he bought the drink, then—That wasn't a coincidence.
Someone had been watching. And they had wanted him to take it.
Her stomach twisted.
This was a setup. Someone wanted Takeshi dead.
And if that was true…They might still be watching.
Connie's phone vibrated.
She nearly dropped it. Her hands were shaking as she pulled it from her pocket.
But when she looked at the screen—
Her blood ran cold.
A text message. From an unknown number.
-You should have let him die.-
Her breath hitched.
A chill crawled up her spine, freezing her in place. She wasn't imagining it.
This wasn't paranoia.
This wasn't a random death flag.
Someone really was trying to kill Takeshi. And now, they knew she got in the way.
Connie's head snapped up. Her eyes scanned the street.
Buildings. Storefronts. Streetlights flickering overhead.
No one was close.
No one was looking at them. But she felt it.
That sickening sensation. Like eyes were on her.
Like someone was watching.
She took a slow breath, forcing her voice to stay steady.
"…We need to leave."
Takeshi looked at her sharply. "What?"
She turned to him, shoving her phone into her pocket.
"We're being watched."
His eyes widened slightly. He didn't question it. He just nodded.
And without another word—They ran.
They made it two blocks away.
Then—
A figure stepped into their path.
A man. Maybe around his mid twenties.
He had short, wild blonde hair with bright amber eyes.
His hands were tucked into his pockets. His posture was too relaxed—like he had been waiting for them.
But the thing that scared Connie the most—
Was the way he was smiling.
Takeshi froze beside her.
Connie's stomach twisted.
This wasn't a coincidence. This was him.
The one who had been watching.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
The man's gaze flickered over Takeshi. Then, slowly—he looked at Connie.
And his smirk widened. "You should've stayed in the café."
Connie's breath caught.
She took a step back.
The air around them shifted. It was subtle at first. Just a slight pressure in her chest.
Then—it got worse.
The world suddenly felt heavy. Like the air had thickened. Her legs felt sluggish. Her lungs strained to pull in air.
Panic surged through her.
What the hell was this?!
She looked at the man again. His posture hadn't changed.
But his smirk had.
It was sharper now. Darker.
Like he was enjoying this.
Then—he raised a single hand. And the pressure around them intensified.
The realization slammed into her.
This wasn't normal. This wasn't a weapon. This wasn't some kind of trick.
This was real. This man—
Had powers.
Connie's entire body screamed at her to move.
To run. To do something. But she was completely out of her depth.
She had no powers.
No way to fight back. She couldn't even breathe properly.
But there was one thing she could do.
Survive.
She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to move. Her hand snapped to Takeshi's wrist.
And with everything she had left—She ran.